


Merely players

by Melanie_D_Peony



Category: Wooden Overcoats (Podcast)
Genre: But it's four different genres, Ficlet, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Funn fragment, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Implied Rudyard/Eric, M/M, Minor Character Death, No beta we die like Piffling inhabitants, Pining, Short & Sweet, They all star in the same movie in their heads, Wakes & Funerals, duh - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:34:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25096930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melanie_D_Peony/pseuds/Melanie_D_Peony
Summary: Rudyard is naturally flattered when Calliope asks him to star in her short film for a school project. But things get heated when Chapman gets involved.‘Eric.’ Georgie turned to their rival, articulating with care like she was talking to someone experiencing a stroke in real-time. ‘You want Rudyard to play the protagonist?’‘Yes, of course.’ He nodded with his characteristic, unshakable confidence.‘Rudyard. As the handsome, well adjusted, relatable main character?’ Syllabized Antigone, dumbstruck. Suddenly, she remembered herself and turned to her brother. ‘No offence, Rudyard.’‘None taken.’ Rudyard simply conceded with only the slightest hint of underlying sadness.
Relationships: Eric Chapman/Rudyard Funn
Comments: 19
Kudos: 80





	Merely players

It was a chilly day on Piffling and the setting sun found Rudyard, Antigone and Georgie standing knee-deep in the sea fairing wind on the very edge of the island. I was sitting snugly in Rudyard’s jacket pocket, of course, but my companions were looking mildly miserable and worse for wear when a familiar figure approached them. 

‘Hello, Funns. Georgie.’ Eric Chapman greeted the trio, drawing a collective groan from them. ‘What are you up to?’

‘What does it look like? We are putting the body in the coffin in the ground, on time.’ barked a clearly offended Rudyard. 

‘The Graham funeral? Oh, goody, so they _did_ find the body at the end? I thought it was going to be an empty casket.’ 

A stiff silence befell the small congregation, during which only the stubborn Piffling wind howled, almost mockingly. 

‘Fine. We are here to put the coffin in the ground, on time.’ Rudyard corrected himself through his gritted teeth. 

‘Except, I don’t see a coffin.’ 

‘Mr Graham wanted a cremation.’ Georgie informed him, showing up a (presumably empty) urn. ‘Wanted his ashes thrown into the wind from the northernmost corner of the island, to be precise.’ 

‘So, there is virtually no need for the ground, then?’ 

‘What is your point, Chapman?!’ Rudyard burst out, irritated, making Chapman take a step back. 

‘My point?’ He stuttered. 

‘Yes. Are you just here to sabotage this funeral?’ Antigone added, rushing to her brother’s aid. ‘This is the first job we got in months, do you really have to ruin it with your constant scheming?’

‘Scheming? Listen, I have no idea what are you talking about.’

‘Oh, don’t play the innocent, Chapman,’ Georgie chimed in. ‘you know bloody well…’ 

They would have continued in this fashion for a little while - in all fairness, it was a slow, uneventful day for all parties involved and they welcomed a bit of hearty bickering for a change. 

If it wasn’t for a small voice interrupting them. 

‘Excuse me, Mr Funn?’

They all turned around as one, only to be confronted by the small, hunched figure of Calliope, standing in the sole patch of shadow of the entire barren cliffside, her posture a perfect mirror of Antigone’s contorted stance. 

‘How long have you been standing there?’ Chapman panted at her, clutching his racing heart, while Rudyard proceeded to greet her magnanimously.

‘Ah, hello there, young Calliope. What brings you to this godforsaken place?’ 

‘I...live here?’ 

‘No, I meant… ah, for heaven’s sake. What do you want?’ 

‘Ah well, I was wondering… I have this school project… we are supposed to make a short film and...‘

‘And naturally, you came to me for help.’ Rudyard nodded proudly. Beside him, Chapman felt it was his turn to take offence. 

‘Naturally? Do you have any experience in movie making, Rudyard?’ 

‘Why, do you?’ Antigone snapped before her brother could stop her. 

‘Why, I happened to have directed a short film that won the Palme d'Or at Cannes a few years back.’ Eric sniffed, making himself tall, puffing his chest slightly out. 

‘Of course you did.’ Georgie sighed, visibly exasperated.

‘What is that supposed to mean?’ 

‘Regardless, Chapman,’ Rudyard cut in. ‘the child wants _my_ help. Now, Calliope, what genre were you thinking?’

‘Actually, I…’ Calliope began, only to be stifled immediately by Rudyard. 

‘A nice little drama would have a lot of potential.’ he mused, tapping his chin. ‘With a strong lead, you know, the anti-hero kind. Someone with the odds stacked against him, a lone wolf, a sole character against the rest of the world, to give the story some much-needed depth. ’

‘Yes, but it has to have some steamy romance.’ Antigone added in haste if a little dreamily. ‘With so much hopeless pining that it should make you want to slash your wrists by the end of it. That’s the only kind of movie that has any merit.’

‘Hold up there, Antigone.’ Eric laughed, a little forcedly. ‘This is a school project we are talking about. I’m not sure if including raunchy scenes would be advisable.’

‘Who said anything about raunchy?!’ Antigone screeched like an offended owl, blushing with unattractive, blotchy pink stains across her cheeks. 

‘You literally just did.’ Georgie pointed out unhelpfully, causing the younger twin to further fold in on herself in shapes that were beginning to defy euclidean geometry. 

‘NoIdidnt _whatareyoutalkingabout_ **shutup**!’ she muttered, far too quickly for anyone to decipher, but the conversation was moving on anyway.

‘I personally think that a nice little romantic comedy would sit much better with this demographic, actually.’ Eric offered his own democratic two cents. ‘You know, some simple kissing or holding of hands maybe with a splash of gazing into each other's eyes under the canopy of stars. Something U rated, so all age groups can enjoy themselves. Maybe a story about a handsome stranger, who comes to a sleepy town an immediately falls for one of the natives, only to have his intentions misunderstood by the love interest. They will have to face a range of trials and miscommunications, share a few intimate scenes due to increasingly convoluted coincidences and fall mutually in love by the third act. If you ask me, Rudyard would be perfect for the role of the stranger.’

This statement brought the conversation to an instantaneous, screeching halt. The staff members of the Funn Funeral home proceeded to stare at Eric in disbelief but for diametrically opposing reasons. 

‘Eric.’ Georgie turned to their rival, articulating with care like she was talking to someone experiencing a stroke in real-time. ‘You want Rudyard to play the protagonist?’

‘Yes, of course.’ He nodded with his characteristic, unshakable confidence. 

‘Rudyard. As the handsome, well adjusted, relatable main character?’ Syllabized Antigone, dumbstruck. Suddenly, she remembered herself and turned to her brother. ‘No offence, Rudyard.’

‘None taken.’ Rudyard simply conceded with only the slightest hint of underlying sadness. 

‘Yes, naturally.’ Eric insisted with increasing irritation. 

‘Can you really not think anyone better for the role?’ Asked Georgie, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. 

‘No. He is perfect.’ Eric said, standing his ground stubbornly, his infuriatingly attractive eyebrows drawn together in a confused scowl. 

‘For goodness sake, Chapman, if you are just being modest…’ Antigone complained, throwing her arms in the air in utter defeat. 

‘Wait a minute, you want _me_ to play the outsider?’ Chapman finally arrived at the same conclusion but was looking even more confused for it. 

‘YES!’ The others cried in perfect unison, which made Eric laugh. 

‘Oh, I can’t possibly. I’ll be busy directing.’ He said, shaking his head merrily. ‘And playing the love interest, of course.’ 

‘What?’ blurted Georgie. 

‘What?!’ choked Antigone. 

‘WHAT?!’ Screamed Rudyard, backing in panic towards the cliff edge. Only Georgie’s quick reflexes prevented him from meeting a violent and untimely end there and then. Composing himself slightly after the sobering near-death experience, the elder Funn turned to Calliope whose unobtrusive presence the others just suddenly remembered. 

‘Actually, on second thought, I am going to be extremely busy in the foreseeable future. But I am pretty sure that your platoon would be simply thrilled to help.’

‘Oh, what a pity.’ Chapman sighed with sincere disappointment only to brighten instantly. ‘Do you have some funerals coming up, Funns?’

‘No. Not a single one.’ Georgie said with emphasis causing Rudyard to hush her in desperation. 

‘N-no, it’s, uuuuuuuuuhm, actually, because. Well, now look here, I…’ Rudyard began to stutter, but at that point, Calliope interrupted by gently clearing her throat. 

‘That is perfectly fine, Mr Funn. I already have a project in mind and all the help I need.’

‘Oh, brilliant. What kind of movie were you thinking, then?’ Rudyard inquired. 

‘A nature documentary.’ Calliope announced. ‘I only came to ask if I can borrow Madeline to star in it.’

‘Only if she wants to. Madeline?’ Rudyard turned to me and, oh dear, I would be lying if I said that I didn’t feel incredibly flattered! So I nodded reverently. Only, I thought I should be hanging back for a minute, sensing something unresolved in the air, so I let Calliope go ahead. 

‘Well, I am glad we are not making any of your stupid movies anyway.’ Georgie said, only half in denial, drawing small circles in the dust with the toe of her right shoe. ‘I can’t believe that none of you wanted to include one single helicopter in any of your dumb plots.’

‘My lovers could have eloped in a helicopter.’ Antigone offered amicably and began to walk back towards the Funn Funeral house, clutching Mr Graham’s empty urn, probably daydreaming about a hot cup of water, or perfectly toasted bread, buttered, optimally, at the11th second. Georgie followed in tow. 

That left Eric and Rudyard, standing, motionless, with the scenic English channel in the background as the pink sunlight bled into inky blue around them. Rudyard just stood there, eyeing Chapman with the utmost suspicion. Chapman’s expression, on the other hand, seemed indescribable, full of something I could not comprehend - however, there was clearly a gentle quality to it. 

‘Congratulations on the Graham job, by the way.’ He said softly, causing Rudyard to croak, clearing his stiff throat. 

‘Thank you.’ He whispered uncomfortably. 

But Chapman did not appear to be listening anymore. He turned his body and attention towards the star-studded sky above them.

‘It’s spectacular, isn’t it? I have to admit, I simply can’t get used to seeing this many stars out here.’

‘No.’ Rudyard agreed, voice softer than I have ever heard before. He stuffed his hands in his pocket and followed Chapman’s eyes, trained toward the million blinking constellations. ‘It never gets old, really.’

For a moment, nothing happened, except for a comfortable kind of silence descending on the pair. Then Rudyard finally shook himself from his stupor. 

‘I’ll see you around, Chapman.’ 

‘Goodbye, Rudyard.’ Eric breathed with feel. 

And with that, the proprietor of my mousehole left without as much as sparing a backwards glance. But if he did, he would have seen the way Eric Chapman was gazing after him, under the canopy of stars. 

With something I can only describe with one word, however improbable. 

It was a look of longing painted across his face. 


End file.
